The Care and Feeding of Stray Vampires Read Online Free PDF

Out, they tended to leave out the part about mobs of people dragging vampires out into the sunlight or setting them on fire for no reason other than that they existed. The federal government issued mandatory after-dark curfews out of fear that the vampires would retaliate en masse. So the humans found ways to fit all of their raids in before sunset.
    The same international contingent of vampires, who called themselves the World Council for the Equal Treatmentof the Undead, appealed to the human governments for help. In exchange for providing certain census information, the Council was allowed to establish smaller, local bodies within regions of each state in every country. The Council was charged with keeping watch over newer vampires to make sure that they were safely acclimated to unlife, settling squabbles within the community, and investigating “accidents” that befell vampires.
    I wasn’t sure if working for the Council made Mr. Calix an authority figure or less trustworthy. While I generally stayed on Ophelia’s good side, I’d been witness to some significantly shady dealings on the Council’s part. The vampire authority believed in “any means necessary” to maintain order, including intimidation, cover-ups, and the occasional disappearance. I tried not to witness anything, because that sometimes led to disappearances. It was a vicious cycle.
    I helped Mr. Calix settle onto the couch with a warmed packet of donor blood, then went downstairs to organize his living space. The basement was pretty tidy, thanks to my postfuneral outburst of boxing and labeling. My parents’ camping equipment was stored neatly in the southwest corner, farthest away from the set of small windows at ground level. Clearing a space among the boxes, I set up the little two-man tent that my dad said was “idiot-proof.” Inside, I covered the low camping bed with fresh sheets and blankets. An upturned orange plastic dairy crate served as a little nightstand.
    Because vampires are highly sensitive to heat and sunlight, I covered the windows in two layers of heavy-dutyaluminum foil and then taped cardboard panels over them. A sunburned vampire was not a pretty sight. Every vamp had a different level of reaction. There was a rumor floating around that it was like a personality test. If a vampire’s skin engulfed quickly, he or she had a passionate nature. A slow, smoldering burn indicated a more controlled character. Personally, I thought it was mean to sit around and look for signals in the smoke while someone was on fire.
    As long as Mr. Calix stayed inside the tent and didn’t mickey around with the window coverings, he would be able to avoid direct sunlight and smoky, fiery death. That was my main selling point, should he gripe about having to sleep between boxes of old yearbooks and an inflatable Santa Claus.
    I made my way up the stairs to find a slightly less gray vampire dozing on my comfy blue sofa. It was utterly bizarre to see a corpse in the room where my family had once held Monopoly tournaments. This was clearly a family room, with its careworn furnishings and cheerful mint-green paint. My dad’s wooden duck decoys “swam” on the mantel. I’d taken down Mom’s framed cross-stitched floral samplers, featuring platitudes about hearth and home, and replaced them with black-and-white photos of our family in better days. There was a shot of preteen Gigi finishing her first 5K with Dad. Mom kneeling among her rosebushes. The four of us playing a particularly violent game of Spoons that nearly derailed Thanksgiving. To usher in a little life, I’d set little arrangements of roses and hydrangeas around the roomin square glass vases. This was not your typical crash pad for the undead.
    I sat in the chair opposite the couch, a delicate, brocade-covered wingback my mother had favored when she needed to have serious discussions with us. We called it the Report Card Chair. I tilted my head to the side and studied my charge.